


Sky, Sea, and Storm

by heresy_in_fair



Category: King Lear - Shakespeare, Voyná i mir | War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
Genre: Brothers, Character Study, Gen, Internal Conflict, Internal Monologue, Sky Imagery, wow what an eclectic mix of tags lucy!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:15:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27145780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heresy_in_fair/pseuds/heresy_in_fair
Summary: short pieces i've posted on my tumblr that i liked enough to post here!
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. w&p

andrei is the sky. sometimes, rare times, the sky feels like a comforting presence that peers into your heart and knows just what to say. most times, though, the sky is distant. unfeeling. you can’t reach the sky, can’t set your sight on it and it alone. there is always a vast immensity between you and the sky. andrei, like the sky, is distant, tired. even those people who move towards him never quite reach him. the sun, the moon, the stars; these are in the sky. they are not with the sky. they do not understand him.

pierre is the stars. the stars are subtle and quiet most of the time, easily overshadowed by the brilliance of the moon and sun and sky. but the stars are always there, shining steadily, quiet pinpricks of hope in the darkness. pierre sits and reads and drinks and thinks and shines steadily like the stars. those who take the time to truly look at pierre will not fail to love him, just as one cannot help loving the stars.

natasha is the moon. the moon is graceful, brilliant, beloved by all. the moon allows you to see in the dark and takes care of your secrets and your heart for you. the moon is reborn again and again, perpetually young. natasha is always young at heart; she is everything the moon is too. the moon fits comfortably in the sky, pairs well with the stars, just as natasha fits comfortably with andrei and pairs well with pierre.

nikolai is the sun. the sun is bright, burning, moving quickly across the sky, painting light and smiles on the face of the earth. the sun might burn out and crash one day, but until that day it is steady and light. nikolai is bright, quick, full of love for everyone he meets, glowing like the sun, close to burning out but holding on by the tips of his fingers. the sun is the mirror image of the moon, just as nikolai is the mirror image of natasha.


	2. king lear

edgar knows his place. he’s the good son, the one who never acts up, the one who stands and smiles while his father waxes poetic about edmund. edmund’s illegitimate birth, his beautiful mother, how he burns brightly and bares sharp edges for the world to see and seduces everyone he meets. edgar stays silent, remembers his own mother and her kindness, a woman who everyone seems to have forgotten now that she is gone.

edgar can’t remember a time when he was not part of a pair. he and edmund are not alike, but they are a joint package. you can’t have edgar of gloucester without thinking of his fierce, brave brother. you can’t have edmund of gloucester without remembering his legitimate brother. edgar stays silent and fiercely wishes for people to ascribe a different adjective to him. anything: boring, slow, steadfast, loyal. anything that has to do with who he is, not how he was born. and yet no one seems to know what to think of edgar.

edgar knows that edmund feels the same way about being called a bastard, but how can he, when he is also so much more? edgar is the elder brother, but he is constantly in edmund’s shadow. edmund the base, yes, but also edmund the brilliant, edmund, beloved. edgar the legitimate, and what else? edgar knows their father would hand over his dukedom to edmund in an instant, if only it was allowed.

when edgar hears the rumor, he is not surprised. he has done nothing to suggest that he harbors any ill will towards his father, but what does that matter? here, in this kingdom, reason takes a back seat to deceit, treachery, power. loyalty and love are rewarded with scorn, exile, death.

edgar does not want to think it, but he does. edmund has always been something more and less than a brother to edgar. they are so different, these two, and just as edgar would never frame his brother, so edmund would not think twice about sending him to his death. edmund is the one behind it, edgar is sure, and for a moment he just wants to sob. perhaps he should let them blame him, catch him, kill him. then he will be gone, and edmund will smile, and no one will ever remember edgar the legitimate.

edgar, instead, finds that there is something inside of him that perhaps has always been there. something dark, not loyal or steadfast, but instead swirling and deep. a part of him that lends itself easily to deceit and deception, allowing him to shed his clothing and responsibilities in an instant and adopt a different name, a different life. it is precisely the indistinct quality of edgar’s personality that allows him to become someone else entirely. 

poor tom, now, is edgar, but not. there is no way to go back to being edgar, not without a brother’s death and a father’s broken heart. the storm around poor tom is akin to the storm inside of him. as he walks into the english countryside, he allows himself one last thought for edmund, the base, the brilliant, before turning his back on everything he’s ever known.


End file.
